The Little Witch: One-Shots
by SouthernBlossom
Summary: Keep up with Kensie and the gang with a collection of shorts written in my TLW universe. Some stories may include CP/spanking.
1. October 2014

**"First Crush"**

"A bunch of my friends are going to the movies Saturday. May I go?"

Damon used his finger to hold his spot in his book as he gave Kensie his full attention. "Which friends would these be?" he questioned.

"Olivia, Willow, Morgan, Chelsea…" Kensie replied, listing the names of her closest friends from school. Since she'd first met them the previous school year, they'd become a close knit group.

He didn't respond for several long seconds as he studied Kensie. While the thirteen-year-old wasn't acting fidgety or nervous, Damon had grown to know her well enough to recognize that she'd left something out. "Who else?"

Kensie sighed internally. She'd really hoped he wouldn't pry. "A couple of other kids from school might be there," she said as casually as she could.

"Their names?"

It took a great deal of willpower not to roll her eyes. "Kevin, Jacob, Luke, and Austin."

The expression on Damon's face as she listed their names was exactly why she'd wanted to avoid sharing that bit of information. "You want to go to the movies with boys?"

"Not just boys," she reminded him. "It's just a big group of friends."

Damon shook his head, and Kensie suspected he was debating whether he could lock her in her room for several years without anyone noticing. He'd half-heartedly threatened to do so once or twice. "You are far too young to date."

Kensie huffed softly in response. "It's not a _date_. We're all just going to see a movie. Really, it's not a big deal."

"And just which movie are you all planning to see?"

"'Dracula Untold'."

Damon snorted under his breath. "Really? _Dracula_?"

"What?" Kensie demanded with a shrug. "After living with the undead for a year, how is 'Dracula' possibly going to scare me?" Loathe as he was to admit it, Damon couldn't deny the kid had a point. "So, may I go?"

"Will there be an adult supervising this event?"

Of course he would ask that. Kensie wondered if Damon would still expect a chaperone when she was eighteen and in college. "No because we're teenagers and we don't need a babysitter. _Please_ , Damon?"

Damon tucked the front of the book jacket where his finger held his place and set the book down. "I don't know if I'm okay with this," he admitted honestly.

"You let me go to the movies with my girlfriends all the time…"

Was she seriously trying to argue that going to the movies with her best friends was the same as going with a bunch of boys Damon had never met or even heard about before? "They're girls."

Kensie folded her arms over her chest. "That's prejudiced against boys."

The kid would make a decent lawyer, Damon mused to himself. "Going to the movies with Olivia and the other girls is different from seeing a movie with a boy. I know you're still young and naïve, but boys your age have expectations."

"You're so ridiculous!" Kensie grouched. "We're all just _friends_!"

"If you're all _just friends_ , why were you so hesitant to admit that your group of 'friends' would include boys?"

She gave him a pointed look. "Have you met you? The way you're reacting right now is exactly why I didn't want to say anything."

The two stared at each other for several long seconds, each scrutinizing the other.

"Please, Damon," Kensie said softly after a moment. "I'll get _all_ of my homework for the weekend done right after school Friday. _Please_."

He was sure she knew exactly what she was doing when she said please in that innocent, pleading tone, because no matter how much he wanted to, he couldn't bring himself to tell her no. " _All_ of your homework," he emphasized. "Every tiny bit of it, the moment you get home. No magic lessons, TV, or other distractions."

"I promise."

Damon sighed in defeat. "Fine. You may join your friends at the movies on Saturday."

Kensie squealed in delight and sprinted to Damon, wrapping her arms gratefully around him.

He returned the bit of affection before patting her back. "All right. I'm sure you have some homework to work on now."

She didn't protest as she let go. Watching Kensie practically bounce up to her room, Damon reached for his cell phone and dialed a number he'd memorized long ago. It wasn't long before a familiar feminine voice greeted him.

"Caroline," he greeted her, knowing she already knew who he was from her caller ID. "I have a favor to ask of you…"

* * *

Early Saturday afternoon, Kensie stood on the sidewalk that stretched in front of the mall as she waved Damon off before hurrying to join her friends outside the theater entrance.

"I'm so glad Damon let you come," Olivia greeted her. "I'm still sort of surprised. Was he horribly overprotective?"

Kensie rolled her eyes lightly. She would vehemently deny it if asked, but Kensie appreciated the fact that Damon cared enough to be obnoxious about boys. "When _isn't_ he overprotective?" she countered. "Your dad gets really uptight about boys, too. He's okay with you going to the movies with boys?"

"He doesn't know," Olivia admitted. "Mom conveniently left that part out when she told him where we were going."

"Awesome," laughed Kensie.

"So, Jacob said they'd meet us inside by the concessions," Willow said, jumping into the conversation.

Perfect, Kensie thought. "I just need to buy my ticket."

Before she could take a step toward the ticket window, though, Olivia held up a ticket. "Here. Mom already bought all of our tickets."

"Thanks," Kensie said, smiling gratefully as she took the slip of paper from her friend. Olivia's mom was always doing things like that, yet Kensie never stopped feeling surprised when it happened.

The group made their way through one of the multiple doors leading into the lobby and concessions area of the theater. Kensie secretly wished she could have put on a little more makeup, but Damon had drawn the line at anything more than lip gloss or tint. She'd snuck a few other basics – foundation, blush, eye shadow, eyeliner, and mascara – in her purse, but there was no way Damon would let her leave the house wearing any of it.

Despite Damon's prodding, Kensie had managed to keep something from him. Yes, she was hanging out with a group of friends, but she'd neglected to mention that she had a huge crush on one of those friends. Austin Wylie was in two of Kensie's classes, and they'd become pretty good friends since Kensie's arrival in Mystic Falls. Austin was kind, funny, and easy to talk to. It didn't hurt that he was also rather easy on the eyes! She'd never mentioned him to Damon, but Kensie had decided it in her best interest not to mention any of her guy friends to Damon. Kensie knew if she'd admitted to Damon how much she liked Austin, he wouldn't ever let her out of the house unsupervised.

She spotted the boys before they spotted her group, and Kensie was glad because it gave her a few moments to compose herself. Austin looked _really_ good that afternoon. He was just wearing a t-shirt and a pair of jeans, but somehow he made the casual outfit look amazing. She seriously needed to get herself together, she thought, before she embarrassed herself.

"Jacob!" Willow called out, catching the boys' attention.

The two groups met in the middle of the lobby. Kensie watched as Jacob and Willow leaned in to kiss. She'd also purposely declined to mention to Damon that one of her friends was dating one of the boys. She was sure he would use it as an excuse to say no.

"Kensie, you look great!"

Turning her attention to Austin, Kensie hoped she wasn't blushingly profusely. She'd chosen her outfit carefully, wanting to look "cute" but not wanting to attract any unnecessary suspicion from Damon. After spending the better part of an hour debating options (thanks to several shopping trips courtesy of Caroline), Kensie had decided on a knee-length spaghetti strap dress, a lightweight denim jacket, and boots. She'd left her hair down, though she pulled it back from her face with a narrow headband. "Thanks, Austin."

"So, you like horror movies?"

She didn't know that she'd go so far to say that she _liked_ them, but she couldn't very well explain to Austin that vampire movies didn't scare her when she knew real-life vampires. Even living in Mystic Falls, most kids her age were blissfully unaware of the supernatural world surrounding them. "They're okay," she said lightly. "How about you?"

"I love them!" he exclaimed. "They're better when they're realistic. I like that this version of Dracula is supposed to be different from the classic Dracula tales. I mean, can you imagine if the stories of Dracula were true, and that vampires really existed?"

Bram Stoker had gotten the history wrong, Kensie thought, but she didn't have to imagine. She couldn't admit that to Austin, though. "The thought is a bit creepy," she agreed. "So, did you want to get any snacks before the movie?"

* * *

Twenty minutes later, they had settled in their seats in the theater. Kensie found herself sandwiched between Olivia and Austin, though she couldn't say she objected in the least. She had a small bag of popcorn nestled in her lap, a medium soda in the cup holder to her right, and a pack of M&Ms tucked into her purse for later. She'd heard other girls at her school fret over eating in front of boys, but she thought the idea was absurd. She wasn't going to feel guilty about eating, and as far as she was concerned, if anyone had a problem with what she was eating they could go screw themselves.

As the previews started, Kensie felt something touch her hand. Glancing down, she saw Austin's hand resting on hers. Lifting her gaze to meet his, she offered a small smile as she shifted her hand, allowing his fingers to better cradle hers.

They sat in silence though the first several minutes of the movie. It felt a little odd, holding Austin's hand, but not in a bad way. However, as the movie progressed, another feeling washed over Kensie – the feeling that someone was watching her. She knew Austin was periodically glancing over her, but this was different. Not long after, she became acutely aware of another feeling – one that told her that something supernatural was in the theater. The presence was unexpected, though it didn't feel threatening. It reminded Kensie of how she felt when Damon or one of the others was nearby. There was no way Damon was in the theater, as he would have certainly intervened in a horribly embarrassing way already.

She had her suspicions, and unfortunately she couldn't sit there without trying to confirm them. Leaning over towards Austin, she whispered, "I'll be right back." Smiling, she stood, exiting the theater as quietly as she could, heading for the nearest restrooms. She knew they were tucked away in a short hallway that also led to employee-only areas.

Kensie casually stepped into the hallway, leaning against the wall. "I know you're here, Caroline," she said under her breath.

Nearly thirty seconds later, the blonde joined her in the small space. "How did you know?"

"I could sense you, and I figured it was at Damon's request."

Caroline smiled apologetically. "He tends to become overprotective when it comes to you. I promise you, I have no intention of giving him a play-by-play account of your afternoon."

Kensie rolled her eyes. "Nothing has happened that would even count as news-worthy."

"No?" Caroline asked, arching an eyebrow in disagreement. "Perhaps it has escaped your notice, but that boy hasn't been able to tear his eyes away from you for more than five seconds since you met up with him. Don't think I haven't noticed the way you've been holding hands since the movie started, either. Damon would have had a fit already were he here."

Blushing, Kensie averted her eyes. "You're exaggerating."

The teen grinned knowingly. "I'm not. I know boys, and _that one_ is as interested in you as you are in him."

It sucked that she couldn't get anything past Caroline. "What _are_ you going to tell Damon?" Kensie asked, unsure of whether she really wanted to hear the answer.

"You saw a movie with your friends," Caroline replied with a wink. "I won't say a word about how much this boy likes you, or how much you like him. I don't know how you even managed to keep that nugget of information from Damon in the first place."

"It wasn't easy," admitted Kensie. "Did Damon happen to mention what time he's coming to pick me up later?"

Caroline shook her head. "He's not. I convinced Damon to let me take care of that. Let me know when you're ready to go, and I'll take you home."

"That couldn't have been Damon's idea…"

"I talked him into it. We can talk about that more later, though. You have a really cute boy waiting for you in that theater, and unless he does something he shouldn't or there's some sort of emergency, you won't see me again until you're ready to go."

Kensie smiled gratefully. "Thank you, Caroline."

* * *

Hours later, Kensie strolled through the mall with her friends, her fingers interlaced with Austin's. The touch was becoming more comfortable as they hung out, and with Caroline there Kensie didn't have to worry about Damon spying on her. Still, she knew it was getting late, and her girlfriends had left not long ago.

She'd used a restroom break earlier to let Caroline know when and where to meet her, but now that the time was approaching, and they were nearly she almost wished she'd set a later time. Kensie hadn't expected an opportunity to spend time with Austin without the others around, and she hadn't been sure she'd want to, but being alone with Austin wasn't so dissimilar to hanging out with her other friends. Well, not so different if she didn't think about the fact that she liked Austin in a _much_ different way from how she liked her other friends.

Spying Caroline near the mall entrance, Kensie let out a soft sigh. "I have to go," she admitted, stopping near a set of benches. "Caroline is waiting for me. I had fun."

Austin smiled nervously. "I had fun, too. Do you think maybe I could call you?"

It took everything in Kensie not to giggle. "That would be cool," she said as casually as she could, wondering how she'd manage to talk with Austin on her phone with Damon catching on.

"I… before you go…"

The next thing Kensie knew, Austin stepped forward and pressed his lips to hers. It was a brief kiss, as he pulled away half a second later, but Kensie felt a jolt of electricity surge through her body. A smile spread across her face, her cheeks feeling warm, but as the rest of Austin's face came into focus, she noticed that he was also blushing. "I'll see you on Monday," he told her.

Walking over to where Caroline stood, Kensie worked on slowing her racing heart. She wanted to jump up and down all while squealing excitedly, but she didn't want to make a scene, and as she was sure Caroline had heard and seen everything. Indeed, a glance at the blonde's face as Kensie reached the entrance confirmed the younger teen's suspicions. "Not a word," she managed without her voice shaking from the excitement as she purposefully strode past Caroline and straight towards the car.

* * *

"How was the movie?"

Kensie maintained her composure as she glanced over at Damon. Caroline had been even more excited than Kensie, but Kensie had managed to pull herself together by the time they'd reached the house. She wasn't sure if Caroline was aware that it had been Kensie's first kiss (and a pretty amazing first, if you asked her!), but she wasn't about to volunteer that information.

"It was okay," Kensie replied noncommittally. "Historically incorrect, of course, but Luke Evans is kind of cute for an old guy."

She felt Damon's eyes scrutinizing her, looking for any clue that anything had happened, but after a moment he made a 'hmmm' and asked, "Should I be worried about nightmares from the movie?"

She rolled her eyes. "Please. It wasn't the least bit scary."

"You seem a bit flushed," Damon observed.

Kensie shrugged. "It's warm in here. I'm going to go take off my jacket, and then I'm sure I'll cool down."

Before Damon could say a word, Kensie zipped up to her room. Closing her door gently behind her, she paused to lean against the door, allowing herself a moment to smile at the memory of Austin kissing her. It would be difficult keeping Damon in the dark, but she _really_ hoped Austin would call her before Monday.


	2. May 2016

She made a beeline for the nearest bathroom, careful not to knock into anyone as she wove in-between teenagers holding large plastic cups and beer bottles, praying he wouldn't make a scene. A bathroom downstairs would have been preferable, but that would take longer to reach, and she needed to get somewhere safe.

The fifteen-year-old darted into a spacious bathroom, all but slamming the door behind her. Making sure the door was locked, Kensie whispered a quick spell to provide an extra barrier before backing up to the furthest wall and sinking down onto the cold tile, mentally scolding herself for the choices she'd made that night. She'd only wanted to go out with her friends for a few hours. Kensie had told Damon she was headed to the mall with Morgan, that maybe they'd see a movie. She hadn't been lying then. It wasn't until she was in the car that she found out their chauffer, Morgan's brother Felix, had other ideas. There was a party being thrown by one of his college buddies, and he needed to make an appearance. He had no qualms dragging along his sister and her friend.

Kensie knew she should have just called Damon or someone to pick them up, but she'd figured she could wait around for a few minutes, and then talk Morgan into leaving. So, while Morgan and Felix mingled, Kensie found a seat and watched the people around her. After having five different high school and college guys, in different stages of inebriations, hit on her, Kensie had decided to take a mini tour of the house to pass the time.

She'd been checking out the rec room on the second floor when she realized one of the guys had followed her. He hadn't seemed like a threat at first, and she'd tried to maintain polite conversation as she figured out a way to return to the crowd, but things had rapidly turned ugly.

Just thinking about it made her heart pound and her palms sweat. Trying to muster a calming breath, Kensie fished out her cellphone and dialed the first number that came to mind.

"Hello?"

"Caroline?" she asked, hating that her voice shook.

"Kensie? What's wrong?"

"C-can you come get me?"

"Where are you?" Caroline demanded, though without an ounce of sternness. Kensie found it a little comforting; she was sure she couldn't deal with anyone scolding her just then. She rattled off the street address, thankful she was coherent enough to remember.

"I'm going to call Damon and…"

"NO!" Kensie shrieked. She couldn't face Damon or deal with his inevitable disappointment and anger. "Don't tell Damon. _Please_."

"Kensie, you're scaring me. What's going on?"

"J-j-just come get me… p-please?"

"I'll be there in ten minutes."

Those ten minutes were torturous. Kensie stared at the door, half expecting her magic and the lock to fail, waiting for the door to inevitably open. Every time the handle shook from someone attempting to open it, Kensie jumped a little. She'd glance at her phone every so often to check how much time had passed, hoping that the closer she got to ten minutes, the less frantic she'd feel. If Caroline said ten minutes, she'd be there in ten minutes.

At just over nine minutes, Kensie's phone rang. She hurried to answer it. "Caroline?" she breathed, hoping there wasn't some sort of delay.

"I'm outside. I can't go in without being invited. Where are you?"

"Upstairs bathroom…" Kensie murmured. She didn't like the idea of having to walk from that bathroom to the front door. She might run into _him_ again. Glancing around the bathroom, her gaze rested on a modest window. "Hold on." Pushing herself to her feet, Kensie inspected the window. Much to her relief, it opened. "I'll be out in a minute," she told Caroline before abruptly hanging up the phone and stuffing it in her purse. Carefully, she maneuvered herself on top of the toilet so she could lift one leg through the window. The other leg followed, and she shifted around so she could ease out backwards. Holding onto the windowsill with all of the strength she possessed, she glanced down and over her shoulder for anything she could use to climb down instead of merely jumping. "Damn it," she muttered. She was going to have to let go and hope she didn't do anything worse than sprain something.

Closing her eyes, Kensie counted to three in her head before loosening her grip and falling backwards. She waited for the inevitable landing (and subsequent pain), but it never came. Instead, she felt something catch her behind her back and under her knees. Opening her eyes, she stared at Caroline in surprise.

"Jumping out of a second story window? Have you lost your mind, Kensie?" Caroline demanded as she set the teen on the ground. Once the shock wore off, though, Caroline took a closer look at Kensie and frowned. Her lip was cut and she had a nasty bruise on her cheek. " _What happened?_ "

Kensie shook her head. "I don't want to talk about it. I just want to go. Can I stay at your place tonight? Damon won't have a problem with it."

"He probably wouldn't," agreed Caroline, "but I'm taking you home anyway."

"Caroline…"

"Something clearly happened, Kensie, and Damon needs to know about it. Come on. My car is out front." She moved to drape an arm around Kensie's shoulders, but the teen jumped and unconsciously took a step away.

Caroline's concern quadrupled in an instant. "Come on," she repeated in a much gentler tone, though she made no move to touch Kensie again. She let Kensie take the lead around the house, staying beside her the entire time, and down the driveway to the car.

Wordlessly, Kensie opened the passenger door and slid into the seat. She had a handful of minutes to figure out how to get past Damon when she got home, and Kensie seriously doubted it was even possible. She expected Caroline to just get in the car and start driving, so when the older teen started the car but left it in park, Kensie turned to her, anxiety soaring. Caroline wasn't a threat, but being inside such a small space felt much more uncomfortable than usual.

"Why aren't we going?"

Caroline sighed. She seemed to be deliberating what to say. "Before we go anywhere, I need to know if you're hurt."

It was a loaded question and Kensie knew it. Caroline had seen her react to being touched; with her vampire senses, she'd certainly noticed Kensie's face, even in the dark of the night. She'd probably come to a conclusion or two.

Answering Caroline's question completely would require volunteering information Kensie wasn't ready to divulge.

Though it hurt to do so, Kensie shook her head. "Nothing requiring immediate medical attention," she said.

It was clear Caroline wasn't the least bit satisfied with that answer, but after a moment, she relented and backed up the car enough so she could pull out onto the road.

Thankfully, the drive home was silent. Caroline didn't press the subject further, and Kensie had no intention to volunteer anything in the meantime. Kensie was beginning to feel very tired, but she refused to close her eyes for even a moment.

Sooner than Kensie would have liked, Caroline turned off of the road and onto a long driveway. As the car pulled up in front of the boarding house, Kensie could see Damon standing in the doorway. It didn't matter that she couldn't clearly see his face in the dark; she couldn't face him. Panicking, she slid down in the seat as much as she could within the constraints of her seatbelt. She felt Caroline's eyes on her, but she couldn't manage a coherent thought, much less a coherent sentence.

Caroline parked the car. Kensie made no move to remove her seatbelt.

"I'll be right back," Caroline said softly as she opened her door. Not waiting for any sort of acknowledgement, she walked up to Damon.

Somewhere in the jumbled thoughts of her mind, Kensie wished she could hear what they were saying. The conversation didn't take terribly long, but it appeared whatever Caroline had told him, Damon wasn't thrilled. After a moment, Damon turned to walk into the house, and Caroline approached the passenger side of the car.

"You told him," Kensie realized, the accusation clear in her voice. Why else would Damon have already been waiting for her when she wasn't due home for another hour? The panic swelled inside her, tightening her chest.

"I told him I was going to pick you up," the blonde admitted. "I didn't tell him why, though, and I didn't tell him where you were. Come on. Damon's going to go for a drive and we're going to talk for a bit." Proving her point, Damon walked out the front door once more and strode toward the garage.

Kensie watched Damon disappear in the shadows before inching her hand to the buckle to unfasten her seatbelt. Caroline took a few steps back, and Kensie slid out of the seat. Closing the door, Kensie half-shuffled up to the house, staying by Caroline's side, her eyes darting around in an attempt to remain aware of her surroundings. Part of her knew it was irrational; if Caroline said Damon was going for a drive, then he was going for a drive, and any immediate threats from the party wouldn't have been able to follow her home. Regardless, Kensie couldn't help herself.

Once inside, Kensie headed for the sofa, claiming one end as she curled herself up in the corner, knees pulled to her chest. Despite the unusually warm spring evening, she shivered involuntarily.

"Are you cold?" Caroline asked with a frown. She grabbed a throw blanket from one of the armchairs and gently draped it over Kensie's shoulders. Lowering herself onto other end of the sofa, giving Kensie some room while still remaining close by, she watched the younger teen pull the blanket tighter around her.

Kensie lifted her eyes to meet Caroline's concerned gaze. "I told you I don't want to talk about it."

"I know," Caroline told her. "We can't _not_ talk about it, though. I can tell that something is seriously wrong, and I'm really worried about you."

"I'm…" The word 'fine' caught in Kensie's throat. She _wasn't_ fine, and she could bring herself to say that she was, no matter how much she wanted to.

Caroline nodded in understanding. "I need to ask you a question," she said, her voice still gentle. "I need you to answer it honestly. Do you understand?"

She really didn't want to, but Kensie had a feeling she wasn't going to get out of it. Slowly, she nodded her head to indicate agreement.

It took Caroline a moment to speak, as if she was struggling find the words. "Were you raped?"

Kensie stared at Caroline for several long seconds before slowly shaking her head. It was the truth. She'd managed to break free before it'd reached that point, but she had no doubt that it would have happened had she not escaped. Subconsciously she pulled her legs closer to her chest.

"But you _were_ assaulted."

It wasn't a question, and Kensie didn't bother to ask Caroline how she knew. One look at her face was probably enough. Kensie still hadn't bothered to check her reflection, not even when she'd hidden in the bathroom before, but she'd tasted blood on her lip earlier and her face was sore. Her cheek in particular throbbed. Even so, she didn't respond to the statement.

A small sigh escaped Caroline's lips. "I can see your cheek and your lip. Are you hurt anywhere else?"

"It's nothing," Kensie murmured.

"I didn't ask whether or not you thought it was serious," Caroline pointed out gently. "I asked if you're hurt anywhere else."

She didn't want to answer. Acknowledging the physical reminders of that night made her feel like she was living it all over again. There was no way she'd be able to hide them forever, though. The weather was too warm to wear long sleeve shirts or hoodies until all of the evidence disappeared. Kensie inched one arm out from beneath the blanket to carefully touch the back of her head. As her fingers came in contact with a bump, she winced. "I hit my head," she admitted, well aware that it wasn't the only injury Caroline was about discover.

Kensie knew the moment Caroline's eyes spotted the small, round bruises freckling her arm. The other arm, still hidden beneath the blanket, had similar marks, but Caroline didn't need to see that.

Shifting towards Kensie, Caroline reached for the teen's hand. Kensie flinched a little, but didn't object. Caroline cradled Kensie's wrist, her eyes studying every mark. After nearly a minute, Caroline set Kensie's hand in her lap. "Can I take a look at your head?"

"Okay."

Caroline stood, moving to stand behind Kensie. With just as much care, she combed away the girl's hair so she could see how bad it was. At the sight of the bump, crusted with a bit of dried blood, Caroline sighed. She resumed her spot on the sofa, gathering her thoughts before she spoke. "I know you don't want to talk about it, but I think you should report this."

"No."

"Kensie, whoever did this needs to be held accountable. He shouldn't be allowed to hurt you or anyone else ever again."

" _No_ ," Kensie repeated, her voice more forceful than before. "It's nothing. I'm… I'll be…" She sighed in frustration when she still couldn't say 'fine'. "No."

It was the last response Caroline wanted to hear, but what could she do? She could report her suspicions herself, but she had a feeling Kensie would be less than cooperative if investigators came to interview her. She couldn't force the kid to talk to the cops, though. While she didn't have the full details, she had the sinking suspicion that some kid had mistakenly believed that 'no' didn't really mean 'no'. Kensie had told the truth about not being raped; Caroline could tell just from the conviction in her voice. That didn't mean that someone hadn't _tried_ to do it.

Of course, she still had Damon to contend with when he returned. It had taken a great deal of persuasion to convince him to go for a drive. He knew Caroline had picked up Kensie and that the kid was upset. What Caroline _hadn't_ shared was where she'd picked up Kensie or that the girl had been injured. No doubt he'd be pissed that she hadn't told him when he finally did find out. It was also doubtful he'd take 'no' for an answer when he inevitably asked Kensie what had happened.

Caroline couldn't decide how to proceed. It wasn't as if she had this kind of experience with Elena or Bonnie or even herself. Whatever she did, she wanted to help Kensie feel a little less anxious if it was at all possible. There was also that small voice in the back of her mind, driven by her vampire nature, which begged to hunt down the kid and rip his head off. She couldn't allow herself to give into that urge though. Her head needed to stay clear so she could attempt to keep Damon from giving into that urge himself.

"I'm going to get a couple of ice packs," she announced, figuring she could at least apply basic first aid. Caroline had no qualms using vampire blood to heal Kensie, but she wasn't sure it was the best course of action just then. Kensie's injuries didn't seem life threatening at the moment. "Would you like a Tylenol, too?"

"Please."

"I'll be right back." Rising from the sofa, Caroline headed for the kitchen. Meanwhile, Kensie took the opportunity to wrap the blanket back around her body, covering everything from her shoulders down. Caroline had been kind and gentle, but having the older teen examine her injuries, even if only with her eyes, left Kensie feeling exposed.

She was grateful that Damon had gone for a drive, but it was only a matter of time until he returned, and as much as she wanted to, Kensie knew she wouldn't be able to keep this from Damon. Makeup might hide any marks on her face, but Kensie couldn't picture Caroline letting her out of sight long enough to apply makeup, and Damon would smell the blood from her wounds anyway. Once he realized something was amiss, Damon would prod until he figured out what had happened. Kensie could only imagine Damon's reaction, but she didn't think it would be pleasant. She was sure he'd be mad at the boy from the party, but Kensie was also certain Damon would be angry with her for being at the party in the first place when she'd told him she was going to the movies. It was hard not to blame herself for the events that evening. If she had demanded they leave the party, if she had called Damon or Caroline immediately, if she had stayed downstairs out in the open where she couldn't be cornered… A small voice, somewhere in the back of her brain, reminded her that it wasn't her fault, but her guilt overpowered that little voice.

Caroline's prompt return broke Kensie out of her thoughts, two ice packs and a small medicine bottle in one hand, a bottle of water in the other. Kensie immediately reached for the pills and water, shaking out a single dose and rinsing it down with a large gulp of water. It was colder than she'd expected, and for a moment her head hurt worse as her body adjusted to the water's temperature. Setting down the water and pills, Kensie accepted one of the ice packs, gingerly holding it against the back of her head. There was a small towel protecting Kensie from the harsh chill of the ice, but even the slightest pressure hurt.

Kensie felt sleepy, but she forced her eyes to remain open. As much as she trusted Caroline, she had to know what was going on. Besides, if she fell asleep, her dreams might drag her back to that house. No, Kensie couldn't let that happen.

Caroline set the other pack on the coffee table, deciding it was far too big and bulky for the bruise on Kensie's cheek. She resumed her spot on the sofa, allowing a comfortable silence to envelop the room. It was obvious that Kensie didn't want to talk about what had happened, and Caroline couldn't force her to talk. Also, Damon would surely return soon, and she needed to figure out how she was going to approach him before he saw Kensie. The elder vampire hadn't been happy about being sent away from his own home, all the while being denied any details about what was going on with his kid. He'd demand answers upon his return.

Minutes later, Caroline heard the soft hum of an engine. Damon had returned. She looked at Kensie, who wouldn't have heard anything yet with her human senses. "Damon's home," she told the girl, feeling horrible at the sudden look of panic that spread across Kensie's face. "Listen, I'm going to go talk to him. I'm not going to tell him anything you told me. I'm just going to make sure he doesn't come in with guns blazing." She waited for Kensie to give a small nod before heading for the door.

She had just closed the door behind her when she found herself face-to-face with Damon.

"Wait, Damon," Caroline said quickly as she held up a hand in front of him.

"Move, Caroline," growled Damon.

Caroline's brow furrowed, the blood vessels beneath her eyes darkening in her anger. " _Listen!_ " she demanded. When Damon didn't say anything or attempt to move past her, she continued. "You need to be calm before you go in there. I know you're confused, but you're only going to make things worse if you go in there hot-headed, demanding answers."

Damon folded his arms over his chest. "What did she do?"

"Nothing," she said softly with a sigh. "She did nothing. Just approach her gently."

More confused than ever, Damon reached for the doorknob as Caroline stepped out of the way and opened the door. He spotted the teen immediately, and took the moment to pause in the doorway to study Kensie. She was curled up against one end of the sofa, a blanket wrapped tight around her body, but Damon could see her face clearly. One cheek was bruised and her lip was swollen. It was no longer bleeding, but Damon could tell that it had at one point. From the amount of blood he smelled, he suspected Kensie had to be injured somewhere else. A pair of abandoned half-melted ice packs on the coffee table proved his point.

More than a little miffed that Caroline had kept this from him, Damon crossed the room at a superhuman speed, stopping directly in front of Kensie. The sudden movement startled Kensie; she jumped, eyes widening in fear. Kensie's reaction alarmed Damon; in the three years Kensie had lived with him, he'd never seen her react in such a way to his vampire powers, not even when she was in trouble. Something was very, _very_ wrong.

Forcing himself to move at a human speed, Damon slowly lowered himself onto the coffee table. "What happened?" he asked, keeping his voice as gentle as he could muster.

Kensie knew outright ignoring Damon's question wouldn't bode well, and she still couldn't bring herself to say she was 'fine', despite the fact that Damon would sniff out the lie in a heartbeat. Admitting the truth wasn't an option in her mind, so Kensie opted for another tactic to downplay the situation. "It's really not as bad as it looks," she said softly.

"That isn't what I asked, Mackenzie Paige," he said, his tone lacking any of the sternness that normally accompanied the use of both names. Reaching out, Damon cupped Kensie's chin, tilting it so he could get a better view of her face. He didn't miss the way her whole body tensed. "What happened?"

She pressed her lips together, a nervous habit, and promptly winced. It seemed she'd misjudged just how much she'd hurt her lip. Determined not to admit as much out loud, she opted to shake her head in response to Damon's question. The movement reignited her headache, and this time Kensie couldn't hold back a low moan.

Damon frowned. He'd gotten no helpful information from Caroline, and now he was getting just as little from Kensie. It was becoming evident, however, that the discoloring on her face wasn't the extent of her injuries, and Kensie's reluctance to speak about it was alarming. "Where else are you hurt?"

Apparently, shaking her head wasn't an option unless she wanted a splitting headache. "No," she murmured, well aware of the reaction that little word could provoke in Damon. Kensie was willing to take the chance. She was half expecting Damon's ire once he found out where she'd been anyway.

Frown deepening, Damon turned to the only other person in the room. "You've got to give me _something_ , Caroline," he said in frustration.

She'd been standing against a far wall, giving Kensie and Damon the opportunity to talk while still providing the girl with silent support. Pushing away from the wall, Caroline took a few steps forward and paused, sighing. "I don't know exactly what happened, Damon. Kensie didn't want to talk about it." Damon glared at the blonde in response. "She's got an impressive knot on the back of her head, and her left arm is bruised," Caroline offered. "I don't know if she's hurt anywhere else."

Damon shifted his head back to Kensie. "Let me see your arm, please."

Kensie worried about Damon's reaction to the fingerprint bruises, but now that he knew there was something there, keeping it a secret would be impossible. Like she had with Caroline, Kensie shifted her arm out from beneath the blanket without uncovering any other part of her body. She studied Damon's face intently as he held her arm, turning it with great care, his fingers exerting a surprisingly small amount of pressure on her skin.

"And your other arm?" he asked, gently setting her arm down against her knees.

It was Kensie's turn to frown. "Damon…"

"Your other arm, Kensie."

He hadn't raised his voice or scolded, but the command was clear all the same. Reluctantly the fifteen-year-old extracted her right arm from the protection of the blanket, using it to hold her knees to her chest.

As he had with the other arm, Damon reached out to lift Kensie's right arm, examining every mark that marred the typically fair skin. Without a word from Kensie or Caroline, Damon could tell _exactly_ what had caused the small bruises that peppered Kensie's arms, and it took every ounce of control he possessed not to lose his temper. He wasn't mad at Kensie, of course, but he suspected that letting her see his anger, even if it wasn't directed at her, would only cause further harm.

Setting the kid's arm down, Damon stood. "Where are your shoes?"

The question caught Kensie off guard. "On my feet…" she said slowly. "Why?"

"We're going to the hospital."

"What?" she half-shrieked. "Damon, _no_."

Damon's heart broke over the terror in Kensie's eyes. Returning to his spot on the coffee table, Damon leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees as he met the teen's frightened gaze. "Listen to me," he said, keeping his voice as gentle as possible. "Someone hurt you. Someone held your arms so tight that they left bruises, and I'm fairly confident that the marks on your face and head aren't the result of an accident."

Kensie glanced away, unwilling to verbally acknowledge Damon was right.

Reaching out, Damon cupped Kensie's chin like he had before, this time coaxing her head around until she had no choice but to look at him. "I can't force you to tell me what happened, and I can't force you to file a report with the police. What I can do is make sure you're not hurt worse than what I'm able to see, and I can make sure your injuries are documented."

The last thing Kensie wanted was to be poked and prodded by doctors and nurses. She was still afraid of how Damon would react to the knowledge of where she'd been, but she was so determined to avoid the hospital that she was willing to take the risk. "It's my fault," she whispered, hugging her knees even closer to her chest and sparking discomfort in her torso that she hadn't felt before. Determined not to let Damon find out she might be hurt elsewhere, she did her best to ignore it.

"What's your fault?" Damon asked carefully, hoping Kensie didn't really believe it was her fault she'd gotten hurt.

"I… we didn't go to the movies," she admitted, examining Damon's expression carefully for any sign of disappointment or anger. "I thought we were, but then Felix said he had to stop by his friend's party. He made it sound like we'd only be there for five minutes, but…"

Damon shook his head. "It isn't your fault someone hurt you, Mackenzie Paige. Regardless of the choices you made, you did not deserve to get hurt. Now come on." Straightening his torso, he held out a hand to Kensie. "Let's go."

"Damon…" she whined softly, aware that the action made her sound childish.

"I'm not budging on this, kid."

Her frown deepening, Kensie tentatively reached out a hand to place in Damon's, allowing him to guide her to her feet.

* * *

Arms wrapped protectively around her torso as Kensie sat on the edge of the exam table, the hospital gown leaving her feel much more exposed than she'd like. She'd been questioned and thoroughly examined, every little scratch or bruise photographed. The doctor had cleaned up her face and the lump on her head, and now Kensie was waiting for Damon.

Moments later, the curtains parted, and Damon stepped into the small exam area.

"How are you holding up?" he asked gently.

Kensie glanced up at her guardian. "I want to go home," she whispered.

"I know." Reaching out, he gently brushed the hair from her face. "As soon as the doctor says it's okay, we'll head home. Do you want to talk about what happened?"

"I want to go home _now_ ," pleaded Kensie, ignoring the question completely.

"Soon. We'll go home soon."

* * *

Damon held the door for Kensie as they entered the boarding house. "Go on upstairs and get changed into your pajamas. I'll be up soon."

She eyed the stairs with apprehension. Damon would surely know if there was someone else inside the house, especially a human, but Kensie still didn't want to go anywhere alone. She couldn't explain to Damon _why_ she didn't want to be alone, though, so putting one foot in front of the other, she slowly made her way up to the second floor and into her room.

Kensie turned on every possible light and looked in the bathroom and every other crevice someone could possibly hide before finally moving to the dresser to pull out some clothes. Despite it being May, she opted for a pair of sweatpants and a heavy sweatshirt instead of the pajamas she'd worn the past few nights. Her arms and torso sore, her face and head quite tender, she moved slowly as she undressed and pulled on her makeshift pajamas. A pair of socks followed, and finally, Kensie took a seat on top of her bed.

A gentle knock on the door alerted Kensie to Damon's presence seconds before the door swung open. Damon paused in the doorway before moving to the side of her bed. He said nothing about her attire, but he did reach out to press the back of his hand to her forehead, just to make sure she wasn't getting sick.

"I'm not going to push you to talk about what happened," he said gently as he took a seat on the edge of the bed so he was at her eye level. "I want you to know that any time you decide you're ready to talk, I'm here to listen."

Kensie sighed. "I'm sorry, Damon."

"What are you sorry for?"

"For going to a party instead of to the movies like I'd said I would."

Damon shook his head. "I'm not upset with you, Kensie. I know it wasn't your decision to go to the party instead of straight to the movies. Would I have preferred you called Caroline or me right away? Sure, but I know you weren't being deceitful when you asked for permission to go to the movies with Morgan." He patted her leg. "Go ahead and slide under the covers."

Kensie shifted so she could slide her legs under her comforter, curling up on her side to keep pressure off the back of her head. The last thing she wanted was to be alone, but she didn't want Damon to think she was acting babyish. As Damon stood and moved to turn off the all the lights save for one low lamp in the far corner, Kensie felt her anxiety skyrocket. "Damon…"

"You won't be able to sleep with all of those lights on," he told her, moving back to the edge of her bed, sitting near her hip. His hand reached out to rub her back. "You're safe. I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere."

"Thank you," Kensie murmured with a sigh of relief.

"You're welcome. Just rest."


	3. May 2016 (Part 2)

Seventeen days.

Seventeen days of waking up in a cold sweat from nightmares. Seventeen days of jumping every time someone caught her off guard. Seventeen days of constantly looking over her shoulder.

The marks had faded from her body, but not from her soul.

Kensie had refused to speak of the party's events with anyone since that night. True to his word, Damon hadn't pushed the matter, but she could still feel the weight of his unspoken questions. He wanted to know who had hurt her, exactly what that individual had done to hurt her, and he wanted to make that person pay. There was no way Kensie could live with the knowledge that she had even indirectly caused someone's death, no matter who it was. All she wanted was to put the whole experience behind her, but she couldn't forget.

Morgan didn't know, at least. Kensie was grateful for this, because she couldn't have dealt with her friend's inevitable guilt on top of everything else, but it was still surprising. Kensie knew she wasn't exactly the life of the party these days. If the other girl had noticed a change in Kensie's behavior, she hadn't mentioned it.

Having woken twice from the same nightmare just hours earlier, Kensie was exhausted. She'd much rather have stayed home in bed, but she hadn't thought Damon would agree to it. She rubbed her eyes, careful not to smudge any of her makeup, and closed her locker. Turning, she took two steps toward her first period class before freezing, her breath catching in her throat. At the other end of the hallway, she saw a face she'd hoped never to see again.

It was _him_.

How had she not known he attended this school? She hadn't recognized him at the party, and had assumed he was in college. He certainly looked old enough to be in college.

It didn't matter what he was doing there. She couldn't move her feet even one more inch towards her class, towards him. Still holding her breath, Kensie spun on the spot, hoping to disappear in the crowd of students headed toward their classes. Leaving school wasn't an option, and she doubted she could just walk off campus without catching someone's attention. She briefly considered the girls' restroom, but anyone could walk in. Her eyes settled on a single-person restroom. Walking as quickly as she could without attracting unwanted attention, Kensie made a beeline for the restroom. Stepping inside, she locked the door, let her backpack fall to the floor, and pressed her back against the nearest wall. She gasped for air, finally allowing herself to breathe. Staring at the door, Kensie muttered a soft incantation to ensure no one would enter without her consent.

She slid down the wall to the floor, continuing to gasp for air as unbidden emotions overtook her.

* * *

Damon set his cell phone on the kitchen table with more force than necessary. He'd just received a phone call from Mystic Falls High informing him that Kensie hadn't been present in _any_ of her classes that day. The last period would be over soon, and Damon had zero idea where his kid was. He'd watched her get on the school bus that morning, so she had to have at least made it to the campus that morning, but it didn't explain where she'd been since the bus dropped her off at school.

It wasn't the first time Kensie had skipped one or more classes, but it had been a few years, and Damon had felt assured that he'd made his displeasure over her failure to go to class abundantly clear that first time. It had been a rough couple of weeks since the ill-fated party, and while Kensie hadn't spoken of it since that night, Damon knew the kid was struggling. He couldn't force her to talk to him, as much as he wanted to. As it was, he had planned on giving Kensie another week before insisting she see a therapist.

Considering the circumstances, Damon felt conflicted. On one hand, Kensie knew the consequences of skipping school. On the other hand, for all Damon knew Kensie could have been taken against her will or could've been hurt through no fault of her own.

He needed to find her.

"What's wrong?" Caroline questioned as she made a beeline for the fridge. She'd made it a point to spend more time at the house since the party, something Damon appreciated. Kensie hadn't opened up to Caroline any more than she had to Damon, but the kid trusted Caroline, and Damon liked knowing Kensie had extra support in case she decided to talk.

"School called," Damon said with a frustrated huff. "Kensie has been absent from all of her classes."

Caroline froze, one hand grasping the fridge door handle. Her snack forgotten, she spun on the spot. "What?"

"No one has seen her all day, and now I have no f-ing idea where she is."

"Breathe," Caroline said soothingly. "Try calling her cell phone. In the meantime, I'm sure Bonnie can perform a tracking spell. We'll find her."

* * *

Nearly an hour later, Damon pulled into a parking spot in front of Mystic Falls High School. His calls (he'd tried every ten minutes) had all gone to voice mail, but Bonnie had ascertained that Kensie was at the school. Damon still wasn't sure he believed it; if she was at school, why hadn't she been in any of her classes? The buses had already left to take kids home for the day, so it didn't appear that Kensie had snuck back on campus to catch the bus home.

As he turned off the ignition, Damon felt a hand on his arm.

"Wait," Caroline said from the passenger seat, her hand stilling Damon. "Let me find Kensie."

"No."

She sighed. "Damon, you're wearing your 'scary Dad face' right now. That's the last thing she needs to see right now, regardless of her reason for skipping class. Let me find her while you take a few minutes to cool down."

"Has anyone told you you're annoying?" Damon asked with a huff as he settled back in his seat.

Caroline arched an eyebrow. "Has anyone told you you're an ass?" she countered, though her tone made it clear she was teasing. "Relax. I'll text you when I find her."

Kensie felt her phone vibrate in her pocket. _Probably Damon again_ , she thought to herself as she fished it out. She'd lost count of how many times he'd called her over the past hour. It felt like ages since the final bell had rung, but Kensie couldn't bring herself to answer Damon's calls or even to leave the sanctuary of the bathroom. She was sure Damon knew she hadn't been in any of her classes and was probably pissed. Though she didn't blame him, she didn't have it in her to deal with his ire.

A quick glance at the caller ID, however, revealed a different caller. There was a chance that it was Damon, using someone else's phone to try to reach her, but somehow Kensie didn't think that person would go for it. Taking a small calming breath, Kensie pressed the green button to accept the call.

"Caroline?" she whispered.

Kensie could hear a sigh of relief over the phone. "Where are you, Kensie?"

"I'm at school…" she told Caroline.

Another sigh came through the phone, this time more exasperated than relieved. "I know that. _Where_ in the school are you?"

Kensie chewed on her lip. Caroline hadn't mentioned Damon so far, but Kensie imagined he had to be with her. She wasn't sure she really wanted to know, but she felt compelled to ask anyway. "Is… is Damon mad?"

"He's worried," clarified Caroline, "but he's in the car. I'm in the hallway just outside the front office. Where are you?"

At least she wouldn't have to face him right away, she thought. It was a small comfort. "First floor bathroom, history building."

Kensie waited silently as Caroline made her way to the history building. The young woman hadn't ended the call, and Kensie was grateful for that. Knowing Caroline was just on the other end of the line filled Kensie with a bit of relief.

Just over two minutes later, Kensie saw the door wiggle as someone tried to pull it open. Almost immediately, she heard a soft knock on the door. "Kensie?"

Releasing the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding, Kensie dropped the protection spells she'd cast that morning and pushed herself up off the floor, lifting her backpack over her shoulder. She unlocked the door and, at the older girl's concerned face, promptly threw her arms around Caroline. "I'm so glad to see you!" she whispered, fighting not to burst into tears right there on the spot.

Surprised, Caroline held Kensie for a few moments, patting her back comfortingly. Before long, she pulled back so she could see the kid's face. "What were you doing locked in a bathroom, Kensie?"

Kensie shook her head and took a deep breath to steady herself. "I-I don't want to talk about it."

"You know Damon's not going to accept that answer this time, Kensie, don't you?"

The younger teen tensed. "You said he wasn't mad."

"He isn't," Caroline insisted. "Like I said, he's worried about you. He's also frustrated that you weren't in any of your classes today." Caroline froze, as if an idea had just occurred to her. She frowned at the thought. "Kensie, exactly how long were you in that bathroom?"

"I just want to go home now," Kensie evaded as she took a step back.

"Kensie."

"I'm sure Damon's getting impatient." Kensie reached up with one hand to hold her backpack strap in place and headed for the exit.

" _Hey_."

A hand wrapped around Kensie's arm. Despite hearing the familiar, trusted voice, Kensie jumped at the touch.

Caroline took the opportunity to step in front Kensie, blocking the girl's path. It wasn't entirely a surprise that she'd startled the teen, even though they were the only two in the hallway, but it was still concerning. Caroline decided to chalk it up to the attack that Kensie had yet to talk about with anyone. She studied Kensie's face intently. "You were in there all day, weren't you?"

"Please, Caroline."

Caroline felt the whispered plea tug at her heart. She couldn't understand why Kensie wouldn't tell her what was going on, especially when she knew that talking about it would undoubtedly help smooth things over with Damon. Whatever Kensie's reasons for missing her classes, Caroline was sure that it was more than just not feeling like going to class.

"Okay," relented Caroline. "Damon's car is out in front of the school."

Relieved that she wouldn't be pushed to talk right away, Kensie resumed her trek out to the parking lot. Unsurprisingly, as she walked out through the main doors, she spied Damon standing beside his car. He seemed to notice her at the same time, but he waited for her to cross the parking lot at her human pace.

It was only when she was less than ten feet away that Damon took several steps forward to meet Kensie before she could reach the car, pulling her into a hug without a word.

The reaction caught Kensie off guard, but she only froze a moment before wrapping her arms around Damon's torso. Even if he was likely pissed at her, Kensie craved the comfort. "I'm sorry," she murmured, eyes closed. "I know you're really upset with me, but I'm begging you, please don't swat me here in the parking lot."

Damon was surprised by Kensie's words. Apparently she was already anticipating his displeasure, even though he had no idea why she'd skipped every class. While he might have considered applying a swat or two in public back when she was twelve, had the situation called for it, he wouldn't dream of doing such a thing now that she was in high school.

Damon rubbed his child's back briefly before pulling back so he could see her face. "I wouldn't do that," he assured her, his voice calm. "Are you at all hurt?"

"No."

He caught no hint of dishonesty in her eyes or her voice, to his great relief. "All right. Let's go home."

Kensie slid into the back seat, figuring Caroline might want to sit in the front beside Damon. She'd also have the chance to come up with an explanation for Damon for her behavior. He would expect as much, even though she was convinced it wouldn't change the outcome.

She spent the ride back to the boarding house staring out the window at the passing scenery, oblivious to Caroline's stares from the front passenger seat or Damon's concerned glances in the rearview mirror. She couldn't even muster the energy to come up with something to tell Damon. No, it had occurred to her rather quickly that, if _he_ actually attended Mystic Falls High, it was possible she could see him again tomorrow, or the day after that, or the day after. Regardless of how Damon reacted today, there was no way she could skip two days in a row.

What was she going to do?

The car stopped and the engine turned off, snapping Kensie from her reverie. Without a word to the others she opened her door and lifted her backpack over her shoulder as she headed into the house. Straight up to her room she went, and she closed the door softly behind her before depositing her backpack on her desk and moving to her bed. She chose the spot directly in the middle, right up against the headboard, and promptly pulled her knees to her chest, allowing her eyes to close as she leaned one cheek against her knees.

* * *

Damon couldn't believe his eyes as he watched the kid wordlessly walk into the house. This wasn't the behavior of a teen who had tried to skip school and, now caught, wanted to weasel out of the consequences. It was almost as if Kensie had given up.

Her behavior had been different ever since that party, but even so, Damon could see something was seriously wrong.

He held the door open for Caroline as they walked inside the house. "Did she tell you anything?" he asked in a low voice, just in case Kensie was within earshot. He doubted it – from what he'd heard outside, the kid had headed straight for her room – but a little caution wouldn't hurt.

Caroline shook her head. "Not really. I found her locked in one of the bathrooms in the history building. She had locked the door herself," Caroline rushed to add at the dangerous expression on Damon's face. "She was more concerned about your reaction than telling me what she was doing in there, and she wouldn't confirm my suspicions, but Damon, I think she spent all day in there."

Damon blinked, sure he'd misheard Caroline. "What? Why would she spend all day in a bathroom?" His first thought might have been that the kid was feeling ill, but Kensie would have no reason to hide that from Damon. The handful of times Kensie had felt under the weather since coming to live with Damon, she'd been allowed to stay home (or come home early) so she could rest and recuperate.

"I don't _know_ , Damon. Every time I tried to pry for more information, she hedged my questions."

He rubbed a hand over his face, frustrated. "How am I supposed to discipline her for this when I can't even make sense of what she was thinking?"

"Maybe you don't," Caroline said gently, lifting one shoulder in a casual shrug. "If she'd just wanted to skip school for the day, why would she have stayed at school? You know as well as I do that this isn't like her at all."

Damon nodded both in understanding and in agreement. "She hasn't been the same since that damn party."

Caroline didn't disagree with that assessment.

Blowing out a large breath, Damon nodded towards the top of the stairs. "I'm going to go talk to her. Do you mind sticking around for a bit, in case she needs someone other than me to talk to?"

"Sure."

He ascended the stairs at a human pace, taking the extra few moments to try to breathe out some of the tension in his chest. Damon really hoped he wouldn't have to be the disciplinarian today; not when his kid had been so out of sorts the past few weeks. It was a job he loathed on the best of days, but in this instance, Damon wasn't sure his heart could take it.

He found her on her bed, back pressed against the headboard, knees drawn to her chest. It was a protective stance, though Damon wasn't sure who Kensie was trying to protect herself from – him or someone else.

"All right, kiddo." Letting out another soft sigh, Damon pulled out Kensie's desk chair and turned it around so he could take a seat. His elbows rested on his knees as he clasped his hands together and leaned forward a bit. He was pleased to see that he had her attention for the moment. "You know the consequence of skipping school. If you don't want to go down that road, I need you to talk to me."

Kensie appreciated that Damon hadn't raised his voice since he and Caroline had picked her up after school and that even now, he wasn't jumping straight into a stern lecture. It was enough knowing that he had to be disappointed in her. She was certain she couldn't handle hearing it in his voice, too. "Would it make a difference?" she asked softly.

"Yes," Damon said in a firm tone. "Do you think I haven't noticed a difference in you since that party, Mackenzie Grace?" She winced a bit at the use of both names, even if they weren't said in scolding. "That you've been walking around with circles under your eyes because you're not sleeping well? That you're constantly looking over your shoulder?" He paused, hoping she might provide some insight, but Damon was only greeted with silence.

"I have a couple of questions for you," Damon continued after a moment. "I want the complete truth in response to those questions – no half-truths, no omissions. Understood?"

She didn't respond at first, but Damon maintained eye contact, waiting patiently. After several tense moments, he caught her nearly imperceptible nod.

"Good," he praised. "Caroline told me downstairs that she'd found you in a bathroom at school. Did you spend all day in that bathroom?"

Kensie didn't want to answer the same question Caroline had asked her less than an hour earlier, especially when she'd avoided answering it the first time, but Damon had said he wanted the complete truth, and he likely already suspected it was true. "Yes."

"Why did you spend all day in the bathroom, Kensie?"

 _No_. She most definitely did _not_ want to answer that question. "Damon…" she whined in a soft voice that made her sound years younger.

Damon crooked one finger at Kensie, motioning her to him. He watched her frown deepen, and she seemed to contemplate whether or not to comply before she straightened out her legs and scooted over to the edge of the bed. He reached out to rest two fingers just under her chin, ensuring he had her undivided attention. "The complete truth," he reminded her firmly.

Kensie tried to swallow down the lump that had formed in her throat. She hadn't wanted to talk about the party. She'd just wanted to forget about it, even though her mind wouldn't allow her to do so. How would Damon react to knowing the full truth? Would he fly into a rage and kill the boy? Would he be mad at _her_ for not saying something before? Would he somehow think it was her fault she'd ended up in that situation in the first place? He'd been adamant before that being hurt wasn't her fault, even though she wasn't supposed to be at the party, but he hadn't known everything then.

"Damon," she whispered pleadingly.

"The complete truth."

She moved to stare at her lap, but Damon's fingers were right back under her chin, lifting it up, giving her nowhere else to look.

"Mackenzie."

Her voice was so small, it took Damon's vampire hearing just to catch her words. "I saw him."

Damon was certain he knew exactly who Kensie meant, but he wanted to hear it from her. "Who did you see, Kensie?"

She knew what he wanted, but Kensie couldn't form the words on her tongue. Panic grew in her chest as her eyes darted from one side to the other, desperate for an escape. Damon wasn't going to let her just ignore the question, and she couldn't seem to make her voice work all of a sudden.

Desperation can spark ideas that wouldn't otherwise appear. Before she could lose her nerve, Kensie wrapped a hand around Damon's wrist, the one currently propping up her chin, and closed her eyes in concentration.

Damon opened his mouth to speak when images began flying through his mind. He had to focus on what he was seeing, as they seemed to be spinning on a reel – an older teenage boy chatting amiably – the same teenage boy trying to kiss him – Damon realized with a jolt that he was seeing Kensie's memories. Considering the speed at which they were moving, Damon imagined Kensie was trying not to dwell on them any more than she had to.

Kensie pushed the boy away, but he tried to kiss her again. She could smell the alcohol on his breath. His hands moved uninvited over her body, fingers digging into her arms when she tried to push him away again. He managed to overpower her enough to push her onto the bed, one hand pinning her wrists together as the other moved to the button of her jeans.

Suddenly, the boy was on the ground, and Kensie was in the hallway of the unfamiliar house, pushing frantically into the first bathroom she found.

Just like that, Damon was back in Kensie's bedroom. He wasn't sure whether to throw up or to fly into a rage, but before he had the chance to react one way or another, he felt a body sag against him. He just managed to catch Kensie before she crumpled to the floor.

At once, he lifted the sobbing girl into his arms, moving to the large armchair and pulling her onto his lap. As she curled against him, heart-wrenching sobs shaking her body, Damon wrapped his arms tightly around her and rested his temple against the top of her head. He made soothing sounds but didn't speak; he didn't think she'd hear anything he had to say just then, and what she needed most was comfort and to feel safe. He could accomplish both without words.

That little shit had tried to rape Kensie. If it hadn't been for Kensie's magic, Damon had no doubt that the boy would have succeeded. Damon couldn't truly understand everything Kensie was going through, not without having had firsthand experience himself, but now her behavior made perfect sense. The poor kid had probably been living in terror since that night, frightened that the boy would catch up with her and hurt her again.

At some point – Damon hadn't kept track of how much time had passed – the door opened just enough for Caroline to poke her head into the room. From the concern in Caroline's eyes, Damon surmised he must have been sitting there for more than a couple of minutes. He mouthed the words 'I'll tell you later', attempting a smile at Caroline's nod of understanding.

The door closed once more, and Damon shifted a bit to find a more comfortable position. Kensie's hands clung to his shoulders, digging into his skin in a way that would have hurt had he been human. "I'm not going anywhere," he murmured in her ear as he rubbed her back. "You are safe, Kensie."

* * *

Sometime later, Kensie awoke in her bed. Her memory felt hazy, though she vaguely remembered being in Damon's lap at one point. She clearly wasn't there now as she stared at the ceiling through puffy, blurry eyes. For reasons she couldn't quite explain at the moment, panic started to rise in her chest. She felt like she couldn't breathe.

Then, something both strong and gentle squeezed her hand.

Forcing herself to take a breath, Kensie tilted her head until Damon's face came into view. He was sitting in her armchair, which had been moved closer to her bed at some point. "I'm sorry," was all she could croak out, her throat feeling raw and dry. She reached a hand up to rub some of the blurriness from her eyes.

A tender hand cupped her face. "You have _nothing_ to apologize for, Mackenzie Paige." His voice was just as gentle, and Kensie couldn't quite understand why he was being so calm.

"I-I skipped s-s-school," she reminded him as if he'd somehow forgotten.

"I know. You aren't in trouble."

His words confused her. "B-b-but l-last t-t-t-time…"

The hand that had cupped her face moved to smooth back her hair. Her response didn't make sense. Damon wondered if somehow her memory had been affected; it had to have taken her a strong burst of magic to show him what she did, even if it hadn't led to a nosebleed or an immediate loss of consciousness. "What do you remember, Kensie?"

"I…" Blinking, Kensie tried to push past the haze. She remembered the car ride home… going to her room… Damon coming in to talk… "Oh…" she exhaled, the details beginning to clear up. Tentatively she pressed a finger beneath her nose, but she didn't feel any blood. "How long was I unconscious?"

"You were asleep for a couple of hours," Damon told her. "That was some impressive magic, Kensie, but you didn't pass out from overextending yourself. I think you just wore yourself out after you finally let out some of what you've been feeling."

"Y-you're really not mad?"

"I am absolutely livid," Damon told her honestly. "However, none of that anger is directed towards you."

She'd been afraid of that. "What are you going to do?"

Damon squeezed Kensie's hand, hoping it would provide her some comfort. "Tomorrow morning, I'm going to take you to the police station and we're going to file an official report." He watched Kensie open her mouth, presumably to object, and quickly cut her off before she could say anything. "This isn't optional, Mackenzie Paige, any more than was going to the hospital that night. You need to know that this boy isn't going to hurt you again, and other than killing him, the only way to do that is to tell the police what he did."

"They aren't going to believe me," Kensie argued softly. "I don't even know his name."

"The hospital collected evidence that night, remember? That's proof of what he did, Kensie."

She shook her head. "I don't want to."

"I know, kiddo," Damon said, a tinge of sadness in his voice. "Like I said, it isn't optional."

Kensie knew he meant it. It wouldn't matter how much she begged, pleaded, cried, or screamed; Damon was going to make her file a police report, just as he'd made her go to the hospital that first night. Having to talk to strangers about what had happened scared her; one of her biggest fears was that they'd blame her for what happened.

Closing her eyes, she rubbed her forehead, wishing the increasing pain and pressure in her head would disappear.

"Does your head hurt?"

"Mhmm," she replied without opening her eyes.

"I'll get you a cool cloth and some Tylenol. Do you want to stay up here and rest some more, or would you like to come downstairs?"

It didn't matter to Kensie, so long as she wasn't alone. "I want to stay with you," she admitted, certain she sounded like a toddler just then.

"You've got it, kiddo." Pushing himself to his feet, he held out a hand to help Kensie up.

She took a moment to catch her bearings, but then Kensie wrapped her arms around Damon, catching him temporarily off guard.

"I meant what I said before," he told her softly as he gave her a gentle squeeze. "You are safe."

Kensie let out a little sigh. "Thank you," she breathed.


End file.
